PLAN TO IMPROVISE

 

 

I started a new job this week, and was surprised to find myself with some unexpected free time.  After one day of work on Monday, my next assignment wasn’t scheduled until the following week.  What would I do with myself for 7 days?  Well, my wife certainly had some ideas, mainly involving housework and errands.  That’s fine, but I’m not going to do that stuff for 7 days.  We already had weekend plans, so I plotted to sneak away for a mid-week backpacking trip.

 

Originally I planned a 3-day trip in the Shining Rock Wilderness.  I love going to popular places in the winter, when the seasonal crowds are absent.  Unfortunately, a new winter storm popped up in the forecast for Thursday.  Now, I’ve hiked in my share of snowstorms, but if I wanted to backpack across some of the highest exposed peaks in the southeast in a blizzard, I’d move to Gastonia and join the boy scouts.  I modified my trip to return on Wednesday.

 

I was packing Monday night when I found out that Thursday’s storm was now supposed to arrive Wednesday evening.  Ok, I’d be cutting it close, but I’d make sure to get an early start out on Wednesday.  I was driving through Hendersonville the next morning and listening to WNCW, when I heard another revision to the forecast.  Now the storm was supposed to start Wednesday afternoon.  Sigh.  I could definitely sense a bad trend developing.  It was already cloudy; in fact, the snowy peaks in the distance rose up into a steel gray curtain.  Should I even go up there?  The road I intended to take, route 215, is currently closed north of the parkway because of flood damage.  Since the parkway is also closed, 215 doesn’t really go anywhere, except the trailhead I was trying to get to.  The road probably hadn’t been plowed after the previous storm.  I was driving my Toyota, which isn’t exactly ideal on snowy roads, especially considering that two of my tires need to be replaced.  What to do?

 

I stopped at the Pisgah Ranger Station and pondered my options.  I stared at the map for a while, before finally deciding that Shining Rock should wait for another day.  At best, I’d be wandering around in the clouds for 2 days.  At worst?  Well, those Gastonia boy scouts came back to mind.  Given that I was going solo, and there probably wouldn’t be anyone else around, I decided to play it safe.  I drove over to the Pisgah Fish Hatchery on the Davidson River.  I plotted out a scenic route over John Rock and Cedar Rock that would allow for a short hike out on Wednesday. 

 

From the far end of the fish hatchery parking lot, Saucony and I followed a snow-covered path downstream along the Davidson River.  The trail led through a pleasant white pine forest and past a couple of nice campsites before climbing away from the river.  The trail was easy to follow, thanks to numerous boot prints in the icy snow.  The only real hazard was the occasional slippery footbridge.  Later I rock hopped a small stream.  This crossing was much safer and easier than the icy bridges!  Not far after the rock hop, we crossed an old logging road and climbed to a signed junction with the trail to John Rock.  We took this path, and climbed gradually, finally arriving at a good viewpoint at the top of the cliffs.  I stopped there for lunch, but had to leash Saucony to a tree.  The cliffs were very icy, and she has never shown any sense about that sort of thing.  I ate lunch quickly and gazed across the Davidson River Valley to the bare granite summit of Looking Glass Rock.  To the west, Pilot Mountain towered over the Davidson River Valley, but the highest peaks up towards the parkway were still lost in the clouds.

 

Saucony and I hiked on, climbing to the wooded summit of John Rock.  The trail then descended steeply to a junction, only to climb once again towards Cat Gap.  Cat Gap is one of Saucony’s favorite places.  I’m not sure why, but she certainly got excited when I told her where we were.

 

We continued to climb, now on the Art Loeb Trail.  A few minutes later, we reached Sandy Gap and the unmarked junction with the faint trail to the top of Cedar Rock.  I knew from previous visits that the trail to the summit is steep and slippery, but the view from the top is the best in the area.  I didn’t want to miss it, so I cautiously headed towards the peak.

 

The trail was in pretty good shape, except for one fallen tree.  Ironically, the footing on the steepest parts was better because of the snow.  The snow actually provided traction that normally wouldn’t be there when traversing bare, wet rock.  After the last of the steep pitches, the grade moderated and I reached the wooded summit a few minutes later.  I passed a campsite, and continued west on one of the many paths radiating from the summit.  A brief descent led to the top of a cliff, where I was treated with an incredible view.  Most of the clouds had lifted, save for a few still clinging to Black Balsam and the other high peaks beyond the Parkway.  Otherwise, the views of the peaks and valleys from the southwest to the north were uninterrupted.

 

After a break, we returned to the Art Loeb Trail and circled around the south side of Cedar Rock.  This part of the trail skirts the steep cliffs of the peak before descending towards Butter Gap.  At the gap I passed an A-frame shelter and a baffling junction comprised of 4 trails and several old logging roads.  It was 3:30, but I didn’t really want to stay in the shelter, especially since the clouds had finally cleared.  Instead I followed the Butter Gap trail down along Grogan Creek in search of a campsite.

 

I passed a couple of decent ones, but decided to hike on.  Just after the second one, I saw a small waterfall just below the trail.  I carefully descended an unofficial route and reached the base of the falls.  It isn’t a particularly tall waterfall, and was rather difficult to photograph, but it was pretty nonetheless.  I fooled around there for a while before returning to the trail to get serious about finding a place to camp for the night.

 

I hiked on until I finally arrived at the partially wooded meadows of Picklesimmer Fields.  Here Grogan Creek calms down briefly, wandering lazily through meadows reminiscent of The Pink Beds or even Panthertown Valley.  Campsites are numerous here, and I eventually settled on one in a hemlock grove on a small rise overlooking the fields.  The hemlocks shelter the campsite, and the dry needles looked pleasant after a day of walking in the snow.  On the far side of the campsite, Grogan Creek becomes energetic once again, tumbling over cascades into a gorge.  The sound of the rushing water provided beautiful music to sleep to that night.

 

I woke to cloudy skies and subfreezing temperatures the next morning.  My weather sense warned me that it was time to go, but I enjoyed a breakfast of eggs and bacon first.  I broke camp at 9:30 and hiked the last mile or so back to the fish hatchery.  On the way though, I took a few minutes to explore.  The gorge of Grogan Creek always looked intriguing from the trail high above it, but I had never had time to check it out.  Today I followed a rough side trail that led to a campsite at the brink of a waterfall.  After a bit of trial and error, I found a safe route down to the base.  Here I found a surprisingly pretty 30’ waterfall and a cave.  Icicles hung down in front of the mouth of the cave like the fangs of some great beast.  After exploring the cave, I returned to the trail and hike the rest of the way out.  I reached the car at 10:30, which probably counts as the earliest I’ve ever finished a backpacking trip.

 

It was so early I decided to visit a couple of waterfalls before I headed home.  I started up the road beyond the fish hatchery, only to find it closed (once again due to hurricane damage).  As an alternative, I drove a side road through snow and mud to visit Slick Rock Falls.  A very short trail here leads to a pretty freefalling waterfall.  From there, I headed over to Looking Glass Falls.  I made it to the base and took a few photos before the snow started to fall.  It was coming down hard by the time I made it back down near Brevard.  Originally I planned to stop for lunch in town, but decided to get out of the mountains first.  This turned out to be a great choice.  I arrived in Columbus at noon, and decided to try a restaurant SC Jack had recommended.  I went to “The Brick”, and was treated with the best Stromboli I’ve had in years.  Thanks for the recommendation, Jack!  “The Brick” also has pizza, pasta, and subs, so we’ll definitely be back.




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